


Score One, British Government

by WridersRose



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Date, Jealous Mycroft, M/M, Online Dating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 20:40:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1137149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WridersRose/pseuds/WridersRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Winter Mystrade exchange. </p>
<p>Greg's finally getting back into the dating scene... What happens when Mycroft finds out?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Score One, British Government

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Burning_Up_A_Sun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burning_Up_A_Sun/gifts).



> This didn't quite turn out the way I wanted it to. I hope you still enjoy it!

It wasn't like it was an abnormal thing, really. Lots of people these days were meeting online, Greg tried to convince himself. He finished answering the questions on the dating site's profile page, biting his lip as he finally clicked 'done' and the page was published to the site. Now all he had to do was wait, right? 

\--------------

Of course, Mycroft Holmes was notified of the Inspector's odd behavior right away. He ignored it, naturally, since Lestrade's love life was of no regard to him... That's not to say he didn't look over Gregory's page carefully, comparing the answers there to his own files. 

\--------------

When he logged into the site the next day, he was shocked at the reply he'd gotten. Greg had seven messages in his inbox. Five were from women and two were from men. 

He clicked to the first one, wincing at the rather graphic descriptions in 'activities I enjoy' on the woman's page, and denied her request. The second, seventh and third went much the same, eliminating two women who looked young enough to be his daughter, and a man whose entire page seemed to be about an unfamiliar children's show or some such nonsense. 

There were bonuses to being a DI - he recognized the fourth page as being a virus, and the sixth as being a scam. The fifth though, a blond man who seemed to check out, he sent a message. 

Over the next few days, he set up a date with the man, Travis, at a neutral pub for the next week. Frankly, Greg was more nervous about the whole affair than anything. 

\----------

Greg sat nervously at a small table against the wall of the pub, away from the windows but visible from most of the building. It came with being a copper, really, that weariness. He ordered a beer, settling back with it as he watched people enter the pub. Greg had purposely arrived fifteen minutes early, planning on being tree already when Travis arrived. 

He was. Right on time, a tall man with blond hair, a bit longer on top and shorter on the sides, came into the pub. He was rather gorgeous, really, with a green button up shirt and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his black jacket folded over his arm. Greg stood, waving him over once he was sure it was the right guy. 

Travis flashed a grin, striding confidently towards Greg and holding out his hand in greeting. "Nice to meet you in person," he blond said, eyes sliding up and down Greg's body once or twice. 

"You too," Greg said, gesturing to the table and sitting back down before hailing the waitress. She came to get Travis's drink order - some fruity, floofy-named thing that made Greg smirk slightly, and left to retrieve it. "So you're a lawyer?" He asked, and the date was on. 

\-----------

Things seemed to be going along swimmingly for Gregory and this Trey, or whatever his name was. Mycroft frowned at the screen that showed the two men walking back towards Lestrade's flat. It had only been two dates, why was he walking him home? Mycroft didn't like the possible answers to that particular question. Pulling out his phone, the government official dialed the Detective Inspector's number. 

"Lestrade speaking," the man answered, and Mycroft watched him raise a hand to Travis and step away slightly, pausing in his steps. 

"Detective Inspector," Mycroft said evenly, "it would appear that Sherlock has found your killer and has, once again, gone after him without notifying you. Your presence is required." He wasn't lying. John had texted him, since the situation was not one where he could call the police. Warehouse or some such nonsense.

Greg cursed, his low voice drifting over the telephone line and making Mycroft shift uncomfortably. "Alright, I'll call in backup and head over now. Thanks for letting me know, Mr. Holmes." He hung up, and Mycroft watched him turn towards the blond on the screen and apologies before hurrying away. Score one, British Government. 

\------------

The next week, it was another pub, though his one quieter as there wasn't a game on tonight. Greg was beginning to realize that he and Travis had just about nothing in common, though they got along well enough. He could hardly help it that while he understood the lawyer jargon, he didn't exactly want to talk about it outside of work or when absolutely necessary. 

All this to say he was glad for the reprieve when he stood to go to the bathroom, leaving Greg alone at their small table for the span of a few minutes. 

Mycroft saw his chance and decided to take it, making sure to stay out of Greg's line of sight as he followed the blond man to the bathrooms. He washed his hands, umbrella hanging from his jacketed elbow, and waited for Travis to join him at the sink. "It would be quite prudent of you to leave tonight," Mycroft said evenly, studying the man in the mirror, "and forget that you ever sawGreg Lestrade's dating page." 

Travis blinked in confusion, eyeing the stranger up and down. "Who are you to be telling me what to do? How do you know Greg?" 

Mycroft sighed, rolled his eyes, gave the man that sarcastic smirk Anthea said was terrifying. "A concerned party. Farewell, Mr. Dawson." The smirk stayed as the man stammered, wide eyed and studying the umbrella as if it were a weapon. It was, of course, but Travis hardly needed to know that to know he should be scared stiff. 

Mycroft followed him out just in time to watch Travis make his excuses to Gregory and leave, flustered and looking a bit panicked. The government official smiled politely and headed towards Greg's table. 

"Fancy meeting you here, Detective inspector," he said as he sat in the newly vacated seat. 

Greg quirked an eyebrow, weary now. "I never saw you as the pub sort, Mycroft. Call me Greg, please. I think we've suffered through enough together to drop the formalities." 

"Of course, Gregory. It would seem that your date has met with some sort of emergency?" 

"Ahh, yeah, that. Didn't really give me a reason, though I suspect he was feeling a bit ill. Looked deathly pale to me, but wouldn't accept my offer to take him home or hail him a cab. Curious, that, he's seemed interested so far." 

Mycroft hummed and gestured for the waitress, asking for the best scotch in the place for himself and the inspector. "I suppose the least I can do for scaring away your date is to buy you a drink," he said bluntly at Greg's argument. 

The DI's eyes went wide and he frowned at Mycroft. "Wait, you did? Why would you do that?" 

Mycroft only smiled, thanking the woman and sipping his scotch. "I believe the appropriate response is 'would you like to come back to mine?" He practically purred, and Greg flushed. 

At the moment, harboring feelings of fancy for the consulting detective's older brother seemed to be the best idea he'd ever had. "I'd love to, Mycroft," he grinned. 

~Fin~ 


End file.
